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Giving Thanks……

            It seems like Thanksgiving did not creep up on us like it has in years past; but rather, came speeding around the corner like a runaway train.  So now it is here, which means that Christmas is right around the corner.  For my family it is just another week, no travel plans, no family gatherings, no time away from work.  My boys are elated to have the week off from school and get some quality time with Dad; although, I am sure by Wednesday, the words, I am bored will be pouring from their mouths.  My lack of enthusiasm for Thanksgiving was not instilled by my parents; in fact, just the opposite.  My childhood memories of the holiday are filled with my Mom cooking all day and cleaning into the night, stuffing my face until I would almost throw up, and my Dad lounging in front of the T.V., watching football.  Now I am grown and my warm sentiment on the holiday is pretty much gone.  I have to work on Wednesday and Friday, so no late night cleaning or early morning cooking for me.  I am a vegetarian, so turkey is not on my holiday menu.  I HATE football, at least the American kind, watching it reminds me of why we are a country filled with overweight and undereducated people.   Plus, anyone who knows me knows that I can not sit still for 5 minutes, much less a whole football game.  Yes, we are pretty boring in my house.  My whole family is pretty disgusted at the thought of stuffing our faces with sticks of butter. 

What I do love about Thanksgiving is what it stands for, no not turkey, not football, not even pumpkin pie.  It is about time together as a family.  It is about turning off the T.V., sitting at a table together, and having a meaningful conversation with your loved ones.  It is about taking the time to tell those special people in your life how much you care for them, and if they live far away, how much you miss them.  It is about slowing down and getting caught in the moment, even if that moment is cooking all day, drying dishes with your Mom, or lounging in front of the T.V., too stuffed to move.  I know my life is crazy, I never sit still, I am up at the crack of dawn, and my days are filled with to do lists from the time I wake up until the time my head hits the pillow.

This year I know that there are many Americans that are struggling with what to be thankful for.  They are out of work; they have lost their jobs, their houses, and their purpose in life.  They have sons and daughters overseas putting their lives on the line.  They are terrified every time the phone rings.  For many Americans, there will be an empty seat at the table this year, left vacant by a loved one that passed away.  They are struggling to just put food on the table, much less worrying about a Thanksgiving feast.  They are staying awake at night wondering how they can tell their kids that this year; there will be no Santa Claus.  This is the state of our wonderful nation.  It seems a little selfish for me to stuff my face, when there are so many people going hungry.  This year, more then any year prior, I feel that I have so much to be thankful for:  a healthy body, a home that is almost paid for, a steady paycheck, food on the table, a wonderful family, and yes, Santa will be coming to our house this year.  As you sit down with your family this Thursday, remember to be thankful for all that you have; especially, that which can not be measured in dollars, peace of mind, health, love, time with loved ones, and happiness, and remember to think about those that are not as fortunate.  It is a wonderful country that we live in and that is something we should all be thankful for.

Ah Maui, what a mellow place. And here I was racing at Maui for the 5^th time, in perhaps my 30^th XTerra, and I was wound up all weekend like I was sitting in the dentist’s chair about to get drilled. I spent most of Sat before the race - when I wasn’t hanging out with the Melrad guys, or chatting with everyone else in the XTerra mafia - holed up in my hotel room trying to chill, and ate a bit of the cereal I bought to relax me. OK, clearly I ate too much of that cereal (and no, it did not relax me).

Sunday. I am up and at the beach getting ready. My gut is in knots from the cereal. Ouch. My legs hurt already as well (Off-season project is to figure out what is wrong – piriformis syndrome? I don’t even know – and fix it).

Anyway, after too much time prepping, we all line up on the beach. Rather than the usual bit where they say that everyone needs to get out of the water, but they start the race anyway, this time they actually got everyone out. I decided to avoid the madness and line up quite a bit to the left of the main cluster of pros and wannabes. BOOM. Well, my plan worked in that I had a free swim lane, but it didn’t work in that the pack was swimming faster together, and I lost some good ground at the start. Then I noticed that my long swimsuit’s zipper was digging in my neck. The zipper had opened a little, and the teeth were gouging me. Ouch. Anyway, overall an uneventful 2 laps, in a little under 22 min. I must have been somewhere around 40^th out, maybe 10th amatuer, out of 500+.

Off to the bike. Once on the bike I kept wondering whether I picked the right tires (Racing Ralph’s) whether the pressure was too low (28), and whether I should have worn gloves (never have at Maui, but my hands always get wet and a bit slippery). Maui is a ride that is rarely that technical, but loose enough, with so many rocks, that you have to focus the whole time. No real chance to just put your head down. I was doing my best to focus, and watching people crash, and get flats, just hoping it wouldn’t be me in either case.

Mel came by me before Heartbreak hill. She was motoring as usual. I knew she had a tough day ahead of her, and hoped for the best for her.

There’s always about 6 short climbs on the course that are steep and loose enough that most people walk. They always frustrate me, but I tried to do my best cyclocross on them, and run up, hop on and go. Fred Smith came by at some point around there – and he seemed really up beat and full of energy! Go Fred.

At one point, as I’m motoring down a little section, I see this HUGE black bull standing right in left side of the trail, staring up the road at us, and looking none too happy. He had to be 6 ft tall, and seemed about 6 ft wide. I decided to ride on the right side J.

About an hour into the ride, I realized I was doing well. Not a lot of riders around me, meaning they were mostly back down the course. As I was climbing a hill leading up to the Plunge, someone right behind me started singing the Oscar Meyer wiener song. It was Casey Fanin, and he got me laughing pretty hard. For a guy riding that hard (he won the 45-49 race), he had plenty of free energy to chat.

My legs starting hurting bad up the last few climbs, but I had a few chances to stand up and stretch them out, which helped.

Down the Plunge. Man, that descent is the only part of the course that makes me nervous. You can really get moving there, and you can loose it in less than a second in those loose rocks. I tired to keep from having the death grip going, laid off the brakes and just hoped my trusty SyCip hardtail would lead me out of danger. Once off that drop, and breathing a little easier, Tom Lyons came by. Normally Tom is as chatty as a teenage girl, but today he didn’t make a sound – just totally focused on his race (no doubt knowing that Casey was still up the road).

After what seemed like forever, I got near the end. Almost dropped the bike right before I left the dirt, getting too aggressive in a gravel turn as I looked forward to the run. I saw Diebens running on the dirt, and Mel not too far behind on the road. I was hoping Mel could catch her, but even a small gap is tough to close. As I came into transistion, I saw Tom and Casey running out about 15 feet apart. I thought to myself “damm I want to watch that battle”.

Off on the run. Hotter than a Quiznos sandwich oven. We had some clouds on the bike, but they left us for the run. No wind at all. I just got into my shuffle rhythm. Fast turnover, short strides, keep the HR below threshold. My legs hurt, and now I really felt the stomach craps again. Argh, painful. I kept focusing on relaxing my body, which helped a little. I saw Keri Strobeck-Grosse coming in off the bike as I ran out. Looked like she was in a good position.

The long and super hot run up the hills was just tough. I felt like I was baking. I dumped water on my head at every aid station. Then finally, we dropped down to the beach to head back. One mile in the sand up Mckenna beach. I have found there is no good way to run there, by the water or in the high sand, it all sucks – even in my Avia Stolz. Then after that you get the Spooky forest – under trees, over trees for 5 min. That’s where people cramp up every year, and sure enough the guy behind me let out a huge scream as his leg locked up on him. Poor dude.

Then you get the black sand beach, but it’s short, and you get on the lava. I hate the lava. It’s the most treacherous part, when you are completely smoked and just want to give a kick and finish. A half mile of stumbling across the rocks, trying to go fast enough without doing a face plant. Then at last the finish. I was relieved. I didn’t even care if I won – I just sat down and dumped water on my head for 5 min to cool down. I still felt bad though, and headed off to my hotel pretty quickly in order get myself out of the sun before I passed out.

I packed my bike, and got back to awards in time to have a few beers, and carry one up to the podium. It was nice to have win #2 in Maui – I needed the validation that win #1 was no fluke. It was also my 20^th XTerra AG win – another milestone. But the party was a bit bittersweet, knowing I won’t see everyone for about 6 months. I was hoping to spend my last day in the islands, surfing with some of the xterra mafia, but everyone got tied up or hung-over, and I ended up surfing alone. It was a perfect mellow day to end my stay however. Catching a few waves, chilling in the sun on a long board, contemplating the end of another race season, along with thoughts of doing some cyclocross, and putting plans together in my head for XTerra in 2010.

Who is on your Team?

            I know, Melrad’s blog is supposed to be composed of posts about racing and training, so please excuse my diversion.  Well, for most of us our racing and training is just a portion of our lives.  Albeit important, it is not the end all be all, and falls after family and that dreaded four letter word, work.  Personally for me, each and everyday is a mini triathlon.  Getting up at 5, hitting the pool by 6, getting to work by 7:30. getting in a second workout, making dinner, doing homework, packing for the next day, and then getting up and doing it all again.  It is an exhausting schedule that is filled with sleep deprivation and often is very lonely.  I am not one of those lucky people who can take off weeks at a time from work and have never really been able to relate to those who can.  This year the most time I have gotten off in a row was three days.  I can not blow off work in the middle of the day to go for a ride or run, the market is still open.  I do not have a nanny, no maid, no chef, no nutritionist, and our extended family lives miles away.  It is just Paul and me.  No matter how stressful and busy my day, my boys still have to do their homework, dinner still needs to be made, and yes Heather, the laundry still has to be done.  My friends and coworkers think I am crazy, which may be true.  The truth of the matter is that while I get all of the glory, the custom race kit, the boxes of Probars, the fancy Avia shoes, the custom wetsuit, the $8,000.00 mountain bike, my husband sits in my shadow.  He is the whole reason I started racing in the first place.  After seeing me struggle to pick up the pieces after my second son was born, he signed me up for Moab and Keystone.  I came home from a run and he said, now you have to do it and not just talk about it. 

Anyone who knows Paul, knows he is loud, outspoken, and to some, downright obnoxious.  My favorite story to tell is from Ogden two years ago.  Melanie, Ross, myself, and Paul were at dinner after the race. Ross looked at Paul and Mel and said, “Do you two ever shut-up?”  Yes, Ross he is sometimes quiet, although those moments are few and far between.  Or the time the Kahuna told him after posting the fastest bike split at Tahoe, coming out of the water almost last, but pulling off a podium finish. “Well Paul, you sure talk a lot of shit, but at least you have the legs to back it up.”  Yes, Dave, he can be perceived as arrogant, but, if I had his confidence, I would probably be on the podium, instead of looking up at it. The truth of the matter is that it is through his sacrifices and support, that I am able to train and race.  I am so glad to have him on my team.  His team spirit is not just for me.  Paul is always working on bikes at Xterras.  He is the first person to bust out the stand and tools.  Sometimes you may not see him at the races, but you will hear him, cheering your name, and yelling to go faster.  For goodness sake, way more people at Xterra races know Paul, then me.  I can not tell you how many blank stares I have gotten as I wave to people I have met with him.  Later they say, oh you are Paul’s wife, sorry.  He has been encouraging me for ten years.  This Saturday, September 5, 2009, is our tenth year wedding anniversary.  Yes, I am only 33, you do the math, and yes, we beat the odds.  That does not mean everything has been moonbeams and rainbows, far from it.  Just ask any of our friends that have experienced our constant bantering.  Doug, Brian, Sara?  Nothing in our 10 year marriage has been conventional or ordinary, not even the story of how we met. 

            It was the summer of 1997 and I was a senior at CU, slinging bagels at Moe’s on the side.  I was just returning there after a semester hiatus of random babysitting jobs.  I remember this obnoxious guy coming in and saying, whose mountain bike is that.  I responded it is mine.  He asked, can you actually ride it.  I stammered, well sort of.  The truth was, I loved mountain biking, but I was horrible.  I was terribly slow and terrified of falling.  We went for a ride anyways and I showed up with no gloves, fell a number of times, and ended up with a hand full of cactus.  That summer we traveled all over the state me falling more then riding and Paul patiently waiting for me.    He always drove home, I was usually asleep by mile two. We spent a ton of time together, but steadfastly remained friends.  We had an uncanny amount of things in common.  Our birthdays were 3 years and 363 days apart, our Fathers shared a birthday 20 years apart to the day. We had both always been the new kid in school and had both been forced into sports that were our Fathers’ passions.  For me it was hours in the pool, for him, the golf course.  That was where it ended.  Paul was confident, outspoken, and brash.  He had dropped out of college to move to Colorado, he loved mountain biking that much. I had already planned out my life path and school was my number one priority.  I left Colorado to mountaineer in BC for a month, an early graduation gift, and when I returned; Paul decided to move to Breckenridge and I was focused on graduation and what part of the world I wanted to explore next. In October, his birthday rolled around and that was it.  I almost fell to the floor as one of my best friends professed his love for me.  The next couple of years were a whirlwind, I put my world travel plans on hold, moved to Breckenridge, we traveled the country with our mountain bikes, and by 1999, were planning our wedding.  My family was not exactly head over heals.  My Dad kept asking if I was pregnant and my Mom was worried that I was going to give up my own dreams and settle for his instead.  Ten years has not exactly flown by.  We both had to grow up pretty quickly when I found out I was pregnant at 25.  Yes, Mom, I did have to put my some of my dreams on hold, but look what I got in return

Paul lost his job in June, so there will be no fancy dinner, no extravagant gifts, or lavish vacations to celebrate our marriage.  Yes, I would love a vacation, but I get to celebrate everyday.  I am so lucky to have found someone that loves me so much, that he lets me do what I love.  Not to mention, one of the most amazing Fathers I have ever met, all boys should be so lucky.  Just look how many wonderful memories we have made.   Thank you Paul for putting up with me for ten years and I look forward to many more.  Just remember at the end of the day to ask yourself, who is really on your team, and thank them.